


Maybe

by kiva31



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-09
Updated: 2003-12-09
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10352664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiva31/pseuds/kiva31
Summary: SPOILERS : Set in S3, before Forever in a Day. Spoilers for COTG, and anything including Sha’re.Warnings: Delving once more in to the mind of Daniel Jackson, as well as some violent imagery.SUMMARY : Delving once more in to the mind of Daniel Jackson





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Stargate SG-1 FanFiction - Maybe

With a sigh, Daniel finally admitted that he couldn't sleep. And that sometimes, on nights like these, he wondered why he even bothered trying. 

Maybe it was the fading adrenaline rush caused by the day's events -- still felt even now -- that was preventing him from resting. 

Maybe he'd even over-exerted himself. Until today, SG1 had been experiencing a quiet patch of late, so it was possible that the sudden activities of the day had screwed up his internal clock, or watch, or something. 

Or maybe, it was the droning buzz of the unanswered questions that were circling around in his mind. 

Finally giving up the pretence of rest, he pushed back the covers and climbed wearily from his bed. 

Padding in to the kitchen, he debated whether or not to have a drink. Coffee was out -- he didn't really need his nerves even more shot out of whack. 

Unfortunately, he had nothing else, as he had cleared out his 'fridge and cupboards of what little he'd had in preparation for what was supposed to be a two week mission. 

Remembering back to the reason that mission had been cut short, Daniel sighed again, moving back out of the kitchen empty-handed, and drifting aimlessly around the living area of his apartment. 

He fingered objects randomly as he moved, unable to settle, but knowing that he really lacked the energy to continue roaming. 

Without conscious thought, his feet eventually took him to the couch, as he dropped down heavily on to its cushions, immediately leaning forward to pick up the book that lay on the coffee table. 

It was one of his journals, its entries covering the ill-fated -- to him, at least, despite the evidence of some sort of new, never before seen on Earth mineral -- mission to P4C-971, hastily put down and forgotten when the phone call from Sam had come in earlier. 

She'd been calling to let him know that Jack had regained consciousness, Janet now convinced that he would be ready for release in a day or so. 

Daniel was glad, though he wished he could have been there to find out himself -- unfortunately, since he'd sprained his wrist slightly, among other various cuts and bruises, Janet had insisted he get some proper rest, in his own bed. He would have simply found a way out of it, but had found himself strong-armed -- literally, thanks to Teal'c -- in to agreeing. 

The only upside to his injury, really, was the fact that it was his left hand that had been hurt, so it wouldn't interfere with his writing. 

Flicking through the pages until he found his place, he rested the book on his lap, his pen held poised to continue his entries. Closing his eyes briefly, to call up the memories, he began to write. 

**** 

Earlier that day - 

Raising his head as he heard his name called, Daniel squinted in the sunshine. "Yeah, Sam?" 

"Activity at the 'gate," she reported tersely, scrambling quickly down the sandy hill that was their chosen path down to the outside of the temple where Daniel was currently sitting. She began gathering up her equipment, still spread out from where she had been taking samples earlier that day. 

Daniel nodded, immediately beginning the same, his video camera, journal, notes and so on, being hastily shoved in to his pack. 

"Did they see who it was?" 

Sam answered without looking up. "About four Jaffa, escorting someone who is most probably Goa'uld." 

Daniel frowned, not pausing as he moved to help Sam with her things. "Only four? I would have thought any Goa'uld worth it's ego would have had a lot more than only four Jaffa watching their backs." 

Sam shrugged, picking up one end of the sample case as Daniel got the other, the pair of them being forced to hide the case rather than taking it with them -- there would be no way to guard against attack as well as lug the heavy box. 

"Could be that this Goa'uld doesn't *have* more than four Jaffa. Or, that they've done recon, decided this planet was safe." 

"That doesn't make sense," Daniel muttered. "I mean, there was no sign that this place had been visited at any time in the last century...." 

"True," Sam managed, grunting as she tried to make her legs propel her up the small but steep hill. 

"But Apophis lost a lot of his in battle...maybe that's the case here. Or, it could be that this Goa'uld is fairly new...hasn't had time to build one up yet." 

Daniel nodded, not answering out loud as they came upon their teammates' position, running in a crouch until they were shielded behind the brush they'd found as cover. 

Jack handed Sam the small binoculars he had been peering through, looking down at his P90 and automatically checking his ammo. 

"Four Jaffa, staff weapons...the Goa'uld looks like he's wearing a hand device, but that looks about all. They're travelling light." 

Teal'c's head moved slightly, his eyes never leaving the figures still by the gate. "I have never before seen this Goa'uld...nor have I ever seen Jaffa branded with that mark." 

Daniel accepted the binoculars from Sam, using them to take a look. "Well, maybe this guy *is* new then." 

"Whatever," Jack said. "We've faced worse odds...we can take out four Jaffa and a snake." 

Switching to hand signals, Jack deployed the others in to positions that surrounded the other group. The plan was to hit the Jaffa simultaneously, then take care of the Goa'uld. 

And the plan worked to an extent -- Teal'c's staff weapon spat fire, taking the first Jaffa out. Sam and Jack's P90s rattled off several rounds, taking out another two. Daniel's 9mm -- smaller than the other's weapons, but no less deadly -- took out the last Jaffa. 

That was when the plan warped. As the first Jaffa fell, his weapon fired, the shot going wild, coming close to Sam's position. She instinctively ducked, moving to a new position closer to Teal'c. The Goa'uld, seeing the movement -- although on his own now, his Jaffa already dead -- raised the hand wrapped in a gold ribbon device, sending off a random shot. The edge of the shockwave caught Jack, throwing him sideways in to a rock, his head impacting solidly. Another shot was fired, this to the left of the Goa'uld, close to Daniel's position. The archaeologist was already on his way to Jack, and faltered slightly as energy at the very edge of the blast's reach caught him, his boots slipping in the sand as he tried to regain his balance. His right hand still tightly gripping his weapon, he used his left to try and break his fall, cursing under his breath at the jolt of pain that shot up his arm upon impact. He ignored it, pushing up and pushing on, only feet from Jack's unconscious -- please, he thought, just be unconscious -- body. 

But when movement from the corner of his eye alerted him to another attempt by the Goa'uld, it seemed like even that would not be enough. 

Almost in slow motion, Daniel weighed up his options. If he didn't act now, that blast would most certainly hit Jack, probably kill him. 

And with that thought, he dropped to one knee, taking up position as he raised the gun, steadying it with his still-throbbing left hand. His right finger tightened, squeezing off several shots, a part of him noting distantly that every bullet hit its mark. 

The Goa'uld fell, blood rapidly soaking through the gaudy robes he wore. Daniel could see his face perfectly from this distance, watching -- he couldn't take his attention away -- as his eyes flashed once, the glow slowly fading as they slipped closed. And Daniel knew that the Goa'uld -- along with its host -- was dead. 

A groan from his left drew his attention, and he continued his scramble towards Jack, crouching down next to his friend. "Jack?" he asked, able to see that the Colonel was fighting the unconsciousness. But he evidently lost, as his face soon relaxed back in to a still state, and he was well and truly out. 

Sam and Teal'c checked on the Jaffa and their master as Daniel checked on Jack, trying to avoid the bodies he knew lay not too far away. Then the other two came over to help with the injured man, and Daniel found it hard to focus on anything but Jack. 

**** 

Daniel closed the journal, resting his writing hand on its cover as he allowed his head to drop backwards, until the base of his skull lay on the back of the sofa beneath him. 

He could still remember the look on the host's face after the Goa'uld's glow had faded. Because in the second that it had been visible, if he had to describe it \-- if anyone had asked him -- there was only one thing he could have come up with. *Relief*. 

He had looked...so peaceful as the life had bled slowly out of his body, through wounds that Daniel himself had caused. 

Sure, he'd done it to save Jack's life, but...still his finger on the trigger...and not for the first time. 

He thought back to their encounter with Apophis, when the Goa'uld had looked to the SGC for sanctuary -- the innocent scribe, who had lived in hell for who knew how long. Questions that had plagued him at the time now came rushing back. Had his family searched for him? Had they mourned him, or just accepted his disappearance as the will of the Gods? Had they ever learned of his true fate? 

And what about the man killed today -- his life, his family? Were they out there even now, looking, finding other Goa'uld and doing their best to wipe them out? In retribution or in the hopes of protecting, it didn't much matter. 

His eyes closed wearily as he forced himself to admit his true question. 

Would he eventually find out "what fate Sha're"...only to discover that someone else, some other person wronged by the Goa'uld, had found her first? 

Killing the parasite that stole her body, but...also killing Sha're...innocent but for being taken as a host. Still innocent, not responsible for the actions her flesh was forced to commit. 

His head moved fitfully, back and forth, rolling on the edge of the couch back. Life was unpredictable, a fact he knew only too well. 

So...maybe he'd go to bed. Maybe, he'd get up tomorrow, and discover something that would lead him to his wife. Maybe he would find her, only to mourn her. 

And as his musing continued, he may have fallen asleep. Maybe. 

**The End**

  


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> Notes: Started when I was suffering from insomnia one night, I abandoned it for other things. Since I'm working on several big fics right now ( that I doubt will ever actually see the light of day,) I decided to take it out and finish it off.

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> © October, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
>  The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
>  who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,  
>  titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.  
> 

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